


Healing Words

by Starts_with_a_D



Series: Merlin one-shots [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bonding Over Loss, Dead dads, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 19:26:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8339809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starts_with_a_D/pseuds/Starts_with_a_D
Summary: 'How very odd,' Gwen thought, 'why is Merlin sitting on Arthur's bed?' Two friends have a conversation about their fathers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this little oneshot a few years ago, and have posted it on FF.net, but now I'm testing out A03. It is set and was written soon after Series 3 ended, so it's a little bit older, but I hope you enjoy!

_Healing Words_

_How very odd,_ Gwen thought,  _Why_ _is Merlin sitting on Arthur’s bed?_

At that particular moment in time, her only thought had been to find Arthur; she hadn’t seen him all day, and she felt a strange longing for him. Every since she had been elevated to the status of a lady, not much work found itself in her hands; the servants felt she was too high, the nobles thought she was too low, so she was lonely, she was bored, she needed someone to talk to, and since she hadn’t seen her hopefully-to-be-husband in a while, she desired to talk to him.

As it was early morning, she had gone down to the training field in hopes of finding him there. Gwaine and Elyan had still been practicing, and had informed her that "the princess" had left more than an hour ago, "dragging poor Merlin back up to the castle to draw him a bath! I ask you—"

At that point, Gwen had thanked them and left. An hour? He should be done by now.

So that was how she came to be in the Prince Regent’s bedroom, peering carefully around the door, and spotting a familiar dark-haired, be-neckerchiefed figure sitting almost casually on the neat bed, examining something in his hands.

“Better not let Arthur see you,” Gwen said softly, and Merlin jumped; he hadn’t heard her come in. “Is he working you too hard? Are you tired?”

Merlin smiled and laughed softly. “Oh no, just sitting for a moment.” He looked at the object he held. “And thinking.” If Gwen had been almost anyone else, she might have made a joke about Merlin and brain capacity, but Gwen was not anyone else, and she saw that Merlin was sad. About what, it was not clear, but something.

“It has been difficult these last few months, hasn’t it?” she said quietly, moving closer. “A lot of changes.”

Merlin grunted.

“Do you think they’ve been good changes?” He raised surprised eyes, and she could sense him deciphering her words, seeing the hidden meaning, but “I’m good with it all,” was what he answered.

“You sure?” she prompted. “You seem a little withdrawn.”

Merlin looked back at the object. “Yes. I have been, I suppose. Just . . . old memories coming to the surface, you know. Nothing new.”

This disturbed the future Queen. He’d been like this before? How had she never noticed? How had Arthur never noticed? She found herself unsure of what to say. “Er,” she stuttered, “do you want to talk about it?”

“We’d be here all day if I did that.”

Gwen smiled encouragingly and sat down beside him. “I’ve got nowhere better to be.” With Merlin being so forthcoming, she didn’t want to miss this chance to get to know him better.

Slowly, he showed her what he was holding. It was a small statue, barely larger than her fist, and it was a dragon. What was so significant about it, she had no idea, but it must have been important to Merlin, to make him so melancholy. Gwen turned the statue in her hands, trying to see what Merlin saw.

It was hand-carved, and well done, too, with almost invisible strokes and smooth turns. The dragon had life, as well; it seemed to watch her narrowly from its little wooden eye sockets. There was something very personal and familiar about the creature, something that made Gwen feel she shouldn’t hold it too long, that it was Merlin’s to hold and touch forever. “It’s beautiful,” she said, handing it back. “Where did you get it?”

Merlin rubbed one finger slowly down the dragon’s rough spine, his eyes distant and sad. “My father made it,” he said simply, “before he died.”

Gwen’s breath caught in her throat. Merlin had never mentioned his father to her before. When they had gone to Ealdor all those years ago, to fend off the bandits, she had noticed a rather conspicuous lack of any man defending Hunith particularly, but had not said anything out of tact, figuring the man had passed on as her mother had. Now it would appear her suspicions were correct.

“He did a very good job.”

“Mmm. He hadn’t much else to do, I suspect. Probably became very proficient at it in later years.”

This sentence seemed a little odd to Gwen. “What do you mean? Wouldn’t he have lots to do?” She smiled. “I mean, helping raise you would be a full time job, I’m sure.”

Merlin laughed, but only for a second. “He didn’t raise me. He left before I was born.”

A cold hand gripped his friend’s heart at the almost bitter tone he carried. “Why?” Merlin shot her a probing glance, as if questioning her sincerity, or worthiness. She almost cursed her forwardness.

Merlin spoke simply, “He was a sorcerer. He lived too close to Camelot. He didn’t want to put Mother in danger, so, when the knights came looking, he left.” He turned to Gwen. “Mother never talked of him, so I didn’t know anything about him. Wasn’t sure if I blamed him for leaving or not. Mother never did, so I figured ‘Why should I?’ Turns out it was a good thing. I actually met him. And . . .”

Merlin stopped speaking. Gwen could think of nothing to say. Well, nothing that didn’t sound absolutely useless and trite. But in her heart, she knew how Merlin felt. Not entirely, of course. Her mother had died, of course, but she had been very young at the time, and she had always had her father, until . . . then. _We’ve both lost our fathers to Uther,_ she realized. _Both of us. I never knew._

She put an arm around Merlin. He did not cry, and neither did she. Their tears had been exhausted long ago. For several moments, they both sat there in silence, thinking their own thoughts, taking a momentary comfort in the arms of a sympathizing friend.

Then the door banged open, and they jumped in surprise. Gwen, not wanting anyone to get a wrong impression, pulled her arm away quickly. It was Arthur, breathing heavily and looking rather excited. He turned towards the occupants and stopped, raising an eyebrow in question. No suspicion, jealousy, or fear entered his mind. He trusted them both too much for that.

Gwen smiled slightly. “Sorry,” said she, “we were talking.”

The prince nodded in acceptance, though he was still curious. “Well, I hope you’re done, because there have been sightings of a strange two-headed snake, which Gaius says is an Amp---Well, some weird name. Merlin, I’m hoping you have finally gotten your act together enough to know what to do.”

Merlin’s mouth twitched. It was almost a smile. “Of course, sire. The question is, are you going to get us to the snake, or will we being losing our way? Again.” Arthur pointed a threatening finger.

“Be careful, Merlin, or I might just decide the royal horses need another cleaning.”

Gwen fought a smile. Everything was back to normal. For now.

_"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought I was the only one." — C.S. Lewis_


End file.
